A Brother's Cry
by RVFan
Summary: He was the quiet one,the one who'd adjusted best to his mother's death. Filmvers
1. Chapter 1

_ I don't have a stake in the 'Thunderbirds'. I've taken them out of their tissue filled boxes to play with for a while. I promise not to damage them and will put them back when I've finished._

1

John wrapped his arms around himself, desperate for any crumb of comfort and listened to the footsteps fading down the hall. He supposed he'd be walking home alone, having missed the school bus **again**. He doubted Scott would have waited for him; he'd stopped doing that months ago. He couldn't call grandpa to get a lift, Ed had taken his cell phone and John hadn't dare tell his father he'd lost it; although that would be preferable to telling the truth. Their father was due home tonight, and he felt sure the question of the phone would be raised. If only John could have confided in him - in anyone, but his father had his hands full coping with the two youngest and his work, besides, no-one would believe him. If he'd died with his mother, he wouldn't be suffering now and he wouldn't have been missed by the others, not while they were mourning **her**.

He winced as the results of the latest attack began to make themselves known. He'd managed to keep the bruising hidden from his family, and they hadn't noticed that he'd more or less stopped eating. It wasn't that he didn't want to eat, he did, but he'd only been able to manage liquids for weeks now. The weight loss was dramatic; a couple of jumpers underneath Scott's old sweater covered that up and had the bonus of absorbing some of the impact of the beatings. Some days they left him alone, and those were the worst of all as he was waiting for the attack that didn't come, he couldn't be sure he was safe until he walked through the door at home.

All in all, he was successfully managing to keep from his family how badly he was doing. They thought he was coping but in reality he was slipping away from them.

Ed McCarthy and his 'friends' had singled him out - why John couldn't figure. Ed had been in Scott's 'circle' for as long as he could remember and before mom's death he'd never been anything but polite though he'd occasionally tease John as did Scott. He wasn't a natural 'social animal' but his mom had encouraged him to form a couple of friendships that made him fit in a little better. After her death that encouragement disappeared and his isolation may have made him a target. Whatever the reason, it was known only to Ed and he wasn't about to tell John.

Still, Spring Break began tonight; an all too brief respite from the emotional torture Ed and his cohorts inflicted on him. The school yard was empty by the time he'd found the courage to leave the building; it was as he'd thought - Scott had gone ahead. He'd become used to walking on his own, when he'd shed the tears he couldn't at any other time, but it was getting harder, he was becoming weaker through not eating; and the icing on the cake today was it was raining - heavily. In a few minutes, he was soaked through and the waterlogged clothing drew away the little heat his body managed to generate.

Then he heard it - the sound of its engine was so distinctive; his grandfather's old pickup. It swung round and stopped next to him; grandpa rolled down the window as far as it would go, "Come on, boy. Let's get you home before you catch your death." he called. John gratefully eased himself into the comfortable interior, squatting on the floor to get the full benefit of the heater's blast - and avoid wetting the seat. "So what was the reason this time?" the old man demanded.

"Just talking" he muttered, knowing it was partly true; Ed had done all the talking.

"Well, yuh know what your grandma's like fer worrying', 'specially 'bout you, boy."

"I'm sorry." He looked up, genuine regret in his eyes, he didn't want to cause anyone else pain, it was the reason he was keeping it all to himself.

"Let's try an' get home before your dad."

"Like that idea." he gave one of his rare grins, looking upwards through his eyelashes as his mother used to.

"Wont have time for a bath, best make it a shower, and get out of those wet things. Don't you have anything of your own?" his grandfather asked.

"I do it to wind Scott up." he lied

"Aint workin', boy. Give it up."

John rocked on his heels, trying to find a more comfortable position before deciding there wasn't one. He was beginning to really hurt now, the cold had stopped the flow of blood and most of the feeling in his chest, that feeling was now returning with a vengeance and it took him all his time from yelping as they drove over the potholes.

They arrived home at last, and John's heart sank when he saw his father's SUV in the driveway. His grandfather must have noticed the look on his face as he said, "You go to your room, boy, and I'll make yer excuses. Yuh need to get out those wet things anyway. Can't have yuh comin' the table like that."

"Thanks" he said as he dropped out of the pick up and walked painfully to the front door.

He was almost at the top of the stairs when he heard his dad's voice, "John!" He turned reluctantly and made his way downstairs again, each step vibrating through his body making his ribs ache.

"I'm sorry I'm late, sir. I missed the bus."

"I assumed that John, the question is, why? What was so important that you couldn't be bothered to get the bus home and your grandfather had to go out in atrocious conditions to get you?"

"I'm sorry." He couldn't look his father in the eye and kept his head down, his eyes examining the floor.

"Sorry doesn't even begin to…" Jeff noticed his son was beginning to shiver, "You'd better get upstairs and take those wet things off. And put something decent on, you're a disgrace in that."

"Yes dad. Sorry." he made his painful way back upstairs, catching his grandfather's eye as he did so. His grandfather shrugged his shoulders and mouthed '_I tried'_. John acknowledged him; it hadn't been grandpa's fault, it was no-one's fault; it was just the way things were; and once again he wished he could have died in the same accident that had claimed his mother.

On reaching his room, his first act was to spread out his books on the radiator to dry which took him much longer than he'd anticipated so he didn't have time for a shower. He proceeded to peel off his wet things and put on some slightly less baggy clothing as he didn't need all the extra sweaters underneath, _"Just the one" _he told himself. He looked at his clock and froze; he was late, he would miss the soup, the only course he could manage. His day was going from bad to worse! There was no way he could do anything more than a slow shuffle, his ribs hurt, his head was beginning to pound and his throat was like sandpaper and as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror he could see the beginnings of the red flush to his skin that promised a temperature by morning. Yep, it was definitely getting worse by the minute!

He arrived at the dinner table as his grandmother was serving up the roast and he could feel his stomach beginning to rebel. "I'm sorry I'm late…" he began only to be cut short by a glare from his dad.

"I thought I told you to put something decent on" Jeff scolded.

"I was in a hurry, sorry." He apologised as he slipped into his chair

His brothers were conducting their usual noisy performance, tonight of course they were competing for their dad's attention; they were welcome to it John mused, all he wanted to do was get back to the sanctuary of his room. Alan and Gordon were arguing, when Alan's elbow made contact with John's ribs and he couldn't stop himself from crying out. The tears were burning his eyes, but he wouldn't cry, he **couldn't** cry, not in front of everyone. Once he started he might not be able to stop. "Watch what you're doing!" he shouted. Alan began to cry.

"John, apologise to your brother" Jeff instructed.

"Why?" John retorted, "**He**'s the one misbehaving and **I** have to apologise!"

Jeff looked at his son, was this his John, or had he been abducted by aliens and a doppelganger left in his place? John was the calm one, the one he hadn't had to worry about, the one who'd adjusted to his mother's absence far more easily than anyone else. "You heard me. Alan is younger than you; I will sort him out in my own way. Now, would you please apologise for making him cry."

"I'm sorry for making you cry Alan." John glared at his youngest brother.

"Now, Alan, apologise to John for bumping into him"

"Sorry John." Alan said grudgingly, "but I hardly touched you, you wimp!"

"Alan!"

"Sorry for calling you a wimp"

John began to push his food around the plate and grandma, well used to John's aversion to solid food offered to get him some soup.

He will eat what's in front of him, mom" Jeff interrupted, "You went to the trouble of cooking it, he can eat it."

"_Just when I think it can't get any worse - it does"_ John thought.

"Dad, you remember Ed McCarthy?" Scott asked.

"Yes, nice boy, very polite"

John's heart sank thirty feet below floor level.

"We've been paired for a project and we thought we'd try to get a head start on next term. Well, I was wondering if he could sleep over a couple of nights, get something started."

"No!" shouted John, dropping his fork loudly onto his plate. He felt seven pairs of eyes staring at him. It wasn't fair, it just **wasn't fair**! He didn't get any peace at school, now there would be no peace at home either.

"John, that's enough. What on earth has got into you? Scott is entitled to have his friends stay here, just as you can have yours."

"But he doesn't have any, dad" said Gordon, wanting to back Alan up against John, "He thinks he's too good to be friends with anyone, doesn't need anybody, do you Johnny? Ed is fun, you're not!"

"Will you all behave or I will go back to the office Monday instead of taking you out!"

"May I go to my room dad," John asked, "I'm not feeling very well."

"Go on, Johnny, run away again" taunted Gordon

"He is looking flushed." Grandma tried to help the obviously distressed John.

"Please, dad!"

"I'll be up to speak to you after dinner" Jeff dismissed his second son.

John gratefully made his exit from the room. He called in at the bathroom, took two aspirin from the medicine cabinet and helped himself to a glass of water. On arriving in his room, he closed his door and leaned against it, as though he were trying to shut the rest of the world out, then flopped onto his bed and swallowed the tablets hoping they would give him some relief from the pounding in his head. Opening the top drawer of his bedside table, he took out the scarf that had belonged to his mother, the last physical contact he had with her. He curled up on his bed and drifted off to sleep; and it was in this position that Jeff found his son an hour later. The cuffs of his sweater had pulled up over John's wrists and Jeff drew a sharp intake of breath at how thin the boy's arms were.

He began to realise John was in deep trouble, and Jeff felt guilt at missing the signs. John didn't demand attention like the others, but he needed it just the same. The self-sufficiency was a mask to cover how much he needed his family. His mother had known that and had made time for her son, but Jeff had simply been relieved that John didn't need his time.

"I'm sorry, son, I've let you down." his fingers brushed hair away from John's eyes, and he felt the heat from the boy's face.

Gently, he eased the scarf from John's fingers, placing it in the half open drawer. Then Jeff drew the covers over his sleeping son, resolving that tomorrow he would begin to make time for him - and to find out why he didn't want Ed staying over.

The light went out and the door closed. John stirred feverishly but didn't wake.


	2. Chapter 2

2

The first mistake he made when he woke was to try to stretch; his ribs told him that was not what they wanted to do. It was dark; he wondered how long he'd been asleep and whether he could still look forward to a visit from his father. He looked at the clock, noted the time was 2am, and realised he was still dressed.

"_OK, John, time to get changed_." he told himself. His head was still pounding, and as it was more than four hours since he'd taken the last tablets, he decided to get some more. While in the bathroom he thought he might as well relieve himself so he wouldn't need to get up again. Hopefully, he'd sleep through till morning and the headache would be gone. Sounded a good plan, all he had to do was get back into his room without waking anyone up and try to get back to sleep!

John's plans had a 50/50 chance of working out at the best of times - unfortunately this one didn't. Just as he reached his father's bedroom door, it hit him and his world suddenly became an alien and terrifying place. Everything began to spin - not a gentle, building up gradually sort of spin but a 0 - 20,000 rpm in 0 seconds flat sort of spin and the floor tilted at an alarming angle. He crashed into the door, trying to grab anything that would stop him from falling but failed miserably in his aim. He lay on the floor which was pitching and rolling in an effort to get rid of him, but he wondered that there was an absence of friction as he lay face down on the carpet.

"John!" His father's voice was a mixture of annoyance at being woken and concern for his prostrate son.

"Dad, help me, please! Make this stop, please make it stop" John grabbed hold of his father and held on as though his life depended on it. He tried closing his eyes, thinking maybe that would help, but it didn't. Instead, his father seemed to join him in his spinning universe. He could hear other doors opening and could sense people coming to see what was going on - how come they could stand upright and he couldn't? "Dad, I'm going to be…" he didn't get the chance to finish as he became re-acquainted with the glass of water and two aspirin he'd swallowed a few minutes earlier, and his pyjamas became wet and then cold. Normally John would have been embarrassed by this, but as things were he knew he was dying and really didn't care very much.

"Jeff, you go and get dressed. You and your father can take John to Doctor Jenkins." It was grandma's voice. She was going to send him away to die! No, he didn't want that. He wanted to be with his family!

"Don't leave me dad." he pleaded as he felt his father loosen his grip and pass John over to his grandmother. "Don't want to go dad, please don't send me away. I'll be good, I promise."

"John, we need to find out what's wrong. Scott, would you get a change for John please. Oh and could you get a couple of blankets."

"Sure dad. He is going to be OK, isn't he?" John could hear genuine concern in his brother's voice.

"Don't want anyone to see" John pleaded.

Jeff paused a moment, then scooped his son up in his arms, surprised at how little he weighed, "Bring the things into my room Scott, please. OK, John, **I **will change you, but it's going to have to be done."

He groaned, he didn't want anyone to see him, especially not his dad, but he wasn't capable of dressing himself. All he really wanted to do was go back to his room and stay there - but he had no say in what was going to happen and he was in no state to fight back. His father placed him on the bed, and John grabbed the sides to stop himself from being thrown off while he waited for his father to finish dressing - then it would be his turn and the full extent of his injuries would be revealed.

Jeff lifted his son and was alarmed to hear him whimper as he tried to raise John's arms to remove his top, but then he felt physically sick when he saw the bruising on his son's torso.

"What has been going on, John?"

"Fell" he muttered. His world was still spinning at an alarming rate as he held onto his father, his anchor.

Jeff decided now wasn't the time to press matters. John; the son who was always there for his brothers whenever they were hurt or upset, who instinctively knew what to say to make people feel better, their peacemaker; no-one had noticed when he had been so very much in need, "_Not even me!_" Jeff thought bitterly.

He wrapped John warmly in the blankets that Scott had found and prepared to carry him to the pick up. He remembered the last time John had allowed him so close; the day Virgil was born.

"Make it stop, dad. Please."

"We're going to try."

"You won't leave me, will you?"

"I promise you, I won't." _Not like then, I left you for a few minutes, but you woke up and thought you__'__d been abandoned. I will never ever do anything like that to you again._

"I've called Sam, to let him know you're on your way" Jeff's mother said as he carried John down the hall to the stairs and out to the waiting pick up. He paused long enough for his mother to cup John's face in her hands and whisper to him, "You're going to be fine now, don't worry." His mom had said that to him when they were trapped; but it didn't end 'fine' then!

He just wished his world would stop spinning, or at least slow down a bit. He melted into his dad's arms. They knew as much as they were going to. He couldn't let them know any more, he had to protect his family; but as he didn't think he was going to survive whatever was wrong with him, he would take the secret to his grave. Beyond the hissing of his blood flowing in his ears, he could hear his father's heartbeat and that he found strangely comforting. Wriggling his hand from the folds of the blankets, he found his way to his dad's sweater, then felt his dad's larger hand covering his; and a small smile played round the corners of his mouth.

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Sam was waiting for them as they drove up to his clinic.

"Sorry to disturb you at this hour, Sam, but you know how he feels about hospitals and I didn't want to put him through that if I didn't have to."

"No problem, Jeff, here, let me take him." His face changed visibly as he took John from his father and found him to be considerably lighter than he would have expected. "What has been going on here?"

"No idea, Sam, only found out myself tonight. His chest and stomach are badly bruised; it looks as though he's been taking beatings for some time now, gauging by the ages of the bruising. When I asked him about them, he said he fell."

"We'll sort that out later. OK, John, you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Dizzy. I'm gonna be sick 'gain"

Sam and Jeff worked between them to get John upright, but having lost the contents of his stomach earlier, all he managed was dry heaves. It made his ribs ache even more and his head carried on spinning.

"Dad?" Jeff heard the panic in his son's voice.

"I'm here John. I promised I wouldn't leave you, and I haven't" He took his son back from Sam after emerging from the pick up.

"I'm scared dad."

"No need to be son, Sam will take care of you. OK?"

"You won't leave me? Promise you won't…"

"I've already said I won't. I promise you." He carried his son to the Doctor's examination room, cradling him as Sam carried out his investigations. He looked at the bruising on John's chest and stomach, hissing inwards through his teeth as he saw the damage that had been inflicted.

Eventually Sam straightened up, "He has an inner ear infection resulting in vertigo. Most unpleasant, and very frightening, but not fatal. I've taken a swab to check on the cause of the infection, though it's probably viral, in which case it will eventually get better on its own. I'll give him a shot to relieve the nausea, then we'll see if he can cope with tablets. Let him stay here the rest of the night, he can go home in the morning. Let him rest, keep him quiet, "he looked at Jeff's face, "OK, that may be difficult in your house! Try to feed him up. You going to stay with him or do you want to sleep in the spare room?"

Jeff nodded his relief evident in his face "I promised him, I'm not going to leave him alone again." Sam looked at him, puzzled, "Long story"

"We have the rest of the night."

"My dad?"

"Gone back home. Said to call as soon as you knew anything. Said they'd be up."

"Well, better be a good boy then" and he grinned, and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. The call made and his family reassured, Jeff returned to his restlessly sleeping son, gathered him up and once again, John settled into his father's embrace.

"How long is this going to last?"

"May only be a couple of days, could go on for weeks or even months. But hopefully it will sort itself out in a few days."

Jeff brushed the blonde bangs out of John's eyes, "The last time he allowed me to hold him like this was the day Virgil was born." he began, "He'd fallen asleep in my arms. Scott was in with his mom and Virgil. Anyway, I needed to go to the rest room, so I put him down on the settee, and asked a nurse to keep an eye on him. I didn't think he'd wake up, I mean he was sound asleep. He did wake up, though, and screamed blue murder. It was the one and only time I've ever known him throw a tantrum. He'd never let me hold him again not that he hated me or anything, just kept his distance. Then he announced to his mom that as she had a new baby to cuddle, he'd give his share to Virgil, because Virgil was so little he needed the extra ones. Lucy tried telling him there were enough to go round, but John being John…"

"He's a unique young man, and I'm sure one day he'll find a particular niche for his talents."

"What's been happening to my boy, Sam? He wouldn't hurt anyone. Why would anyone want to do that to him? Lucy and I talked about how to educate him, we realised early on he was exceptional. As he got a bit older and it became clear his social skills weren't as developed as his intelligence, we decided he'd be better off with other kids. We knew it would be tough on us; Lucy being here with the boys and me going where ever the work would take me while I was building up the business, but we decided it was better than hauling them all over the country. Guess we were wrong, though. Can't help feeling I've let John down. The others have settled here OK."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I could leave him where he is, try telling Dave McCarthy that my son is being bullied and insist he does something about it, have him home tutored or take the boys back to California with me. I couldn't take just John; he wouldn't leave his brothers behind. Oh heck, let's get him better, and then we'll talk about it as a family."

"Do you think John will allow that - let his brothers know he's being bullied?"

"I don't know, Sam. I don't know what John thinks. Never have, don't suppose I ever will."

"Have you taken the time to find out?"

"And just when am I supposed to do that? Have you any idea how exhausting Gordon and Allan are? If anyone could find out how Allan keeps going they'd solve the world's energy crisis - and Gordon's practical jokes can cause a riot; and I don't mean with laughter!"

"So, you've never discussed Lucy's death, with him then? After all, they were trapped for some hours. Do you know if he was conscious? Was Lucy?"

"No good picking a sore, Sam, it'll never heal that way. I can't bear the thought that maybe she, **they** were conscious while they were trapped and whether she knew or whether he did that she was dying. It would be too much for a boy his age to cope with."

"**You** don't want to **think** about it! But if he had been conscious at all, **he** wouldn't have that luxury. He'd be trying to cope with it every day, whether or not it's too much for him, and you're refusing to talk about it. Maybe he thinks you resent the fact that he survived and not Lucy."

"Don't be ridiculous, Sam!"

"Try seeing things from his point of view, he was in a coma when his mom was buried; you and the rest of the family had begun your grieving process together. When he came round you had all begun to move on, leaving **him **very much behind. Jeff, it's obvious the boy is struggling - and I don't mean just the bullying. You're going to have to put **your** feelings to one side and think about what John **needs**, after all he does it for everyone else; time to return the compliment." He paused, "You know something? I'm getting a dry mouth with all this talking, want some coffee?"

"What about you getting some sleep? I'll stay here with John."

"You've obviously never read the list of requirements for a country doctor, have you? Insomnia is top of the 'additional' list! Besides, we need to plan our campaign."

"Campaign?"

"Let's get John Tracy back on track campaign."

Jeff moved, setting John back onto the bed.

"Dad?" he whispered miserably.

"I'm here, son. You rest now, I'm not going anywhere. Doc says you can go home later."

"OK"

"And no listening in to adult conversation, young man!" Sam Jenkins added.

"Is it going to be interesting?" John asked sleepily.

"Nope"

"Wont bother, then. Night."


	3. Chapter 3

3

The trip home had been hard on John and it took some time for them to settle him. After Sam had left, Jeff went to Scott's room, it was next to John's, and Jeff would be able to hear if he woke.

"Hi dad, how's John?" Scott turned as his dad entered.

"May take a while, but he'll be fine. Well, physically anyway, this infection and the vertigo will get better." Jeff looked at his hands, rubbing them together as he thought, "Scott, has John said anything to you about having trouble at school?"

"Well, I was sort of hoping to talk to you about that while you were home but I haven't had a chance yet."

"You have my attention now." Jeff sat himself down on Scott's bed.

"It's just that…well, things aren't adding up dad. I think he may be getting in with the wrong crowd. I would never have believed it of him, but it's the only explanation." He waited for his dad to say something, but he didn't. "He never, or hardly ever, gets the bus home any more and grandpa has to get him, he doesn't give an explanation; what he does is lie - outright lies, dad. I think grandpa knows but he doesn't say anything, he's waiting for John to come clean. Then there's the thing about his cell phone. Ed has it because John sold it to him, but when I asked John about it, he said he'd lost it, and that's not the only thing he's sold, but he never has any money. He doesn't eat much at home - grandma goes frantic some of the time. He says he's eaten at lunch but I never see him in the hall. I've challenged him about it, but he says I must've missed him because he was definitely there or he's been 'busy' or he 'forgot'." Scott shrugged, "The only thing I can say for sure is that he isn't smoking. Could be drink or drugs - it's the only thing that fits, especially as Ed says he's seen John with Tony Straker and his crowd."

"Who's Tony Straker?"

"His dad's been away a couple of times for dealing. Tony's been heard to say he can get whatever people want, but nothing's been found on him at school."

"Heard, by whom?" Jeff prompted

"Tim Sanders for one."

"…and Tim is?"

"He lives next door to Ed. His dad is the bank manager. It's probably why he doesn't want Ed staying here, he's afraid Ed is going to say something. I just can't believe he'd be so stupid; after all he still has his heart set on going to NASA and anything like that would completely blow his chances. Maybe mom's death is affecting him more than he's letting on, I don't know! He wont talk to us. He was never sociable, but he's withdrawn even more since he came home from the hospital. I've tried to get through to him - we all have, he just shuts us out. I have to admit, dad, I've just about given up on him, if he wants to be that way, he can have it. But I've told him I'll listen if he ever wants to talk"

"Ah, I see" said Jeff, "So John has never mentioned being bullied?"

"John? Course not, Mr McCarthy would never allow it. And do you really think I'd let John suffer like that?"

"Not if you knew about it, no. But John may be keeping it to himself." Jeff paused, unsure whether to continue, "When I was changing his pyjamas last night I noticed he has a lot of bruising on his chest and stomach. When I asked about them he said he'd fallen, but Sam Jenkins says they're 'Non accidental injuries'. He'll monitor for now, but if any more show up, he's going to have to report it."

Scott went quiet while he took it in; his brother was being beaten and had kept it to himself. Why hadn't he confided in him? "John is harmless, he'd never ever hurt anyone, no-one would have any reason to do that to him. He's my brother, dad, he knows he can depend on us for back up. I wonder if that's why he's hanging around with Tony? Maybe Tony's threatening him."

"As you said, Scott, he's changed a lot, although he was never what you could call talkative, and being away so much, I think he has difficulty in confiding in me."

"Wouldn't feel bad about it, dad, John doesn't confide in anyone."

Jeff hesitated, trying to think how to pose the question," Does he ever talk about your mom?"

"No, and that's another thing, dad. I mean, he was so close to her but he never mentions her, walks away when we try to bring her up in conversation, says he doesn't want to talk about her. It's as though he's trying to block out she ever existed. It's weird, dad, I just don't understand him. Sometimes, though, I think I've heard him crying, you know, late at night when everyone's asleep, when I've passed his room on my way to the bathroom…I wish I'd gone In to him."

"It must have been hard for him, being trapped with her. He has never said whether he was conscious - to be honest, Scott, I hope neither of them was. Sam said he wondered if maybe John thought I resented the fact he survived and your mom didn't."

"That's stupid, dad."

"My thoughts exactly, Scott, but we don't know how John sees things, not that we can be blamed for that as he doesn't see fit to tell us. Sam was right in one respect - your brother is struggling."

"He wont let us help him, dad. We can't force him to accept it. He's been so hard to live with, he's sort of with us but not - if you know what I mean. Grandma thinks he's bottling it all up and the longer it goes on, the worse it's going to be when he does break down"

"He's let me get closer to him than he has for years, since he was a baby. Maybe he's ready to come back to us."

"I'll keep an eye open, dad and when I said before about giving up on him, I didn't really mean it, you do know that?" Jeff nodded, "By the way, is it still OK for Ed to come round? I understand if he can't stay over, what with John being sick and everything."

"Sure, just keep him away from John. Sam says he needs rest and quiet."

"Have you told Gordon and Allan about that?" Scott grinned.

"Oh yes…mind you whether it went in and stayed in, I don't know. By the way, keep this between us for now, I don't want the others to know. John's having a hard enough time as it is without putting up with any comments from anyone else"

"Course, dad. Just between us... And grandma and granddad?"

"They're automatically included in the conspiracy. I won't keep any secrets from them."

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He opened his eyes -and his world was still! He was so excited, he sat up, and returned to the spinning universe, the shot Doctor Jenkins had given him to stop the nausea must have worn off as his stomach began to heave again. He tried desperately to turn so he wouldn't throw up on his bed, but his sense of direction was completely shot.

He felt two strong arms around him, helping him, his dad had appeared from nowhere, must have been listening out for him he supposed.

"OK, John, I've got you" John buried his face into his dad's chest, wishing for the stillness he'd enjoyed so briefly when he'd woken.

It was a novel feeling and one which John was beginning to enjoy - if 'enjoy' was the right term for his present predicament - safe in his father's arms and secure in the knowledge he was loved. It made him all the more determined to protect his family; **he **may suffer but they wouldn't.

"Must remember - no sudden moves!" he mumbled as the spinning sensation eased. "I'm thirsty."

Jeff turned and poured out a small amount of water from a bottle. "Small sips, John. I know it's tempting to gulp it down…"

"But want it to stay down." John tried to smile, "I'm sorry, dad."

"What for, son?"

"Being so much trouble. They must hate me."

"You're no trouble, John and who must hate you?"

"My brothers." he said sadly, "Spoiling their break, spoiling your time with them. I'm sorry, dad. Really, really sorry. You've got to take them camping as you planned; that is if grandpa and grandma don't mind me staying here. I promise I'll do my best not to trouble them too much. It isn't fair they should miss out because I got sick."

"No-one hates you, John." Jeff said with as much conviction as he could.

"He says you do, Scott talks to…" he tailed off as he suddenly realised he'd said too much and almost given away the name of his tormentor. He had made the mistake because he'd allowed himself to get too warm, too comfortable and had let his guard down; he couldn't do it again. Jeff saw the shutters come down and he understood what Scott had meant when he said that John withdrew from them. He tried to pull John closer to him, but felt the boy stiffen and he realised that the brief time of thinking his son may return to them was rapidly evaporating.

"I'm tired, dad."

"Want some more water?"

"Little. Thanks."

He lay back on his pillows, waiting for his world to stop spinning. Jeff thought his son's eyes looked unnaturally bright, but respected his privacy and left the room. Then he felt as Scott must have those times he'd passed John's room and heard him crying. Why wouldn't John let them help him?

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The first day of spring break and John was still in bed. If he kept still, or was very careful about how he moved his head didn't spin. Doctor Sam had called that morning to check on him and said things were progressing satisfactorily. But they weren't, not as far as John was concerned. His dad had announced the camping trip was off, much to the annoyance of his two youngest brothers - he'd heard their protests all the way up the stairs and along the hallway and the slamming of doors. He knew they hated him, and with good reason. He sighed and carefully turned to face the wall. He was tired, he always seemed to be tired the past few days. Just as he was drifting off to sleep he was grabbed from behind, a hand grasping his jaw in a vice-like grip, twisting his head round quickly, the pressure on his throat making it difficult to breathe. Instinctively, he grabbed the edges of his mattress as the now familiar pitching sensation overwhelmed him. His breathing was shallow and rapid, he was panicking - who was doing this? He forced his eyes open to see Ed glaring at him! How did he get here? Where was his dad? Why was he letting this happen? John wanted to call out, but the grip on his throat was too tight. His heart was pounding - he was so scared, more frightened than he ever was in school. This was his home, his room was the only place he'd been safe, even that was lost to him now.

"Think you could get away from me Tracy?" the voice whispered harshly in his ears. "Think again, there's nowhere to hide from me. You're useless, you know that don't you!"

"Ye…ye…yesssss" he hissed. He was too scared to cry, too afraid to do anything other than listen to the threats from Ed. His world was spinning but he didn't care, nothing mattered. His family had abandoned him to his torment, he must have been left or they would have been there and Ed would never have been able to get near him.

"Your family don't want you. They think you're a joke. Scott tells me all about it, how they wished your mom had lived. She was beautiful and loving, not like you, you freak. You should have died."

"I, I know" he mouthed, he didn't have enough breath to talk. If he'd been able he might have told Ed that seldom a day went past when he didn't wish that for himself.

"So keep your mouth shut, Tracy. Don't forget, you say anything to anyone and I'll tell them I've seen your bruises and you said your grandpa has been hitting you. You'll all get taken into care and split up and it will all be your fault! They'll have even more reason to hate you then. Not that they need any reason, do they. You're a total waste of space."

"_I know_" he thought. He didn't understand the reason for the way they'd been acting over the last few days, everyone pretending he mattered. He didn't and he knew it. Ed had merely confirmed what he had known all along. He had loved them, still did; that he couldn't show it wasn't really his fault, but he could protect them. It would be the last thing he could or would do, his head was spinning, and his heart was aching. He really didn't want to exist any longer; he wanted to be with his mother. She was the only one who had ever really loved him - and he had begun to doubt that even that was true That hurt more than anything.

His mind couldn't cope with any more abuse, Ed had destroyed what little had remained of John Tracy following the accident. In time, he might have recovered with help from his family, but the avenue had been blocked and a wedge driven between them. John was alone, and in his vulnerable state he believed it when he'd been told he was a burden to his family. Somehow, Ed had discovered that his mother hadn't wanted to be out that day, she had agreed to go only because it was so important to him. It was more ammunition and Ed continually taunted him how his mother's death had been his fault.

Gradually, a sense of calm detachment flowed into him. John had never told anyone about being trapped with his mother, how they'd been conscious to the last few minutes of her life. He knew his dad didn't want to think about them being aware of what was going on, so he hadn't told them. He supposed it was better than telling a lie; he'd forget what he'd said and they'd keep going on at him. Then they'd know he'd been lying and they already hated him, he didn't want to give them any more reason. Nor had he passed on her message to his dad. It was all too late now.

His lungs gave up the struggle to draw in air, and he surrendered to the darkness where there was no pain, no fear, and no dizziness.

He didn't hear the quiet, menacing voice saying, "Get your hands off him. **Get the hell away from my brother!**"


	4. Chapter 4

_Still don't own anything, still wish I did, then I could tell Mr Tesco I'm not working for him any more and could write full time. Thanks for all the feedback, I think I've answered them all, if I've missed yours, then I'm truly sorry and say 'Thank you' now._

4

Ed swung round to see Scott standing in the doorway.

"I said; get the hell away from my brother!"

"You can't want to admit this sorry excuse…"

Ed was cut short as Scott grabbed his shirt and hauled him to his feet; he threw him to one side and crouched next to his brother's bed. His whole focus was on John who was far too still. Scott was horrified to realise he wasn't breathing and he frantically searched for a pulse. To his immense relief, it was there - faint and slow, but there.

"Dad, **DAD**!!!" he yelled as he tried to remember the procedures that would help. Then his training kicked in. The pillows were thrown on the floor and John's head tilted back, he checked the airway; and then he began to breathe for his brother.

He half heard footsteps running along the corridor.

"Scott?" His father's worried voice broke into his thoughts.

"He isn't breathing, dad" Scott tried to keep the rhythm going. "Get **him** out of here." he briefly nodded in Ed's direction.

Jeff didn't question, instead he ushered Ed out of the room, and watched his eldest son battle to save his second. Every fibre of his being wanted to push Scott away and continue the resuscitation himself but Scott was coping well; he would take over only if it went on so long that he began to tire. He was saved from this when John gasped as he began to breathe for himself again. Scott rolled John into the recovery position and collapsed trembling into his father's arms as he realised the full implications of what had just happened. It was then Scott became aware of the rest of the family standing at the door, necks craning on to see what was happening.

"Will he be OK?"

"Sam is on his way" grandma said. She knew that John's previous injuries would be reported by hospital staff

"No 'pital" John's whisper was audible only to Scott.

"He doesn't want to go to the hospital" Scott relayed.

"If Sam says hospital, you go young man!" Jeff's voice was firm but friendly.

"'Lone." Again, the hoarse whisper from John that only Scott could hear.

"He wants us to go." Said Scott

"We can't leave you completely alone, son. Someone's got to stay to monitor you and make sure nothing further happens."

"'anpa." The effort it took for John to speak was obvious. Reluctantly, everyone except grandpa left. "Hold, please." John pleaded.

His grandfather picked him up, held him. His world spun, but he no longer cared. He could smell the reassuring combination of pipe tobacco, hay and animals. Smells that had often comforted him on their drives home from school, when he'd been so hurt, so afraid and confused; when he'd realised that Scott had been the one who'd imparted information to Ed; not that he blamed his brother for being mad at him, he was madder still at himself. No, Scott had every reason to have acted the way he did.

"No 'pital, p'ease, no…"

"Your dad will do what's best for you, John. You've been through a lot, boy, we need to make sure you're goin' to be OK, Yuh understand that?"

"No 'pital. Not 'gain…p'ease."

The old man stroked John's hair, "If there's any way t'avoid it, boy, yuh c'n bet your dad'll take it. If they say yuh gotta go, then yuh gotta go. But yuh wont go alone. Someone will be with yuh. Promise."

He buried his face into his grandfather's ample chest, wishing he could turn back time and have mom back; she would make everything OK, she always did. His eyelids dropped as they became unbelievably heavy and he gradually drifted off to sleep.

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He was woken up by grandpa lowering him to the bed. He saw Dr Jenkins and realised he was in for more poking, prodding and questions. He really didn't feel up to it and felt like telling him to go away and just leave him alone; but he knew he'd still have the examination to face, _"So might as well just give in gracefully_. " He thought.

"How are you feeling now?" Sam asked

"I've been better, but then, been worse."

"Good as that, hm? Don't know why they bothered asking me to visit."

"They panic." John replied

"They care about you. They feel guilty because none of them realised what was going on."

"Nothing was…is going on"

"So your face just happened to wedge itself in Ed's hands, did it?"

"You don't understand! I can't, I just can't…"

"You can, John, you have to trust your family - they'll support you now!"

"It's because of them I can't! He's going to say I told him grandpa did this to me," he pointed to the bruising on his body, "then we'll all be split up and it'll be all my fault. I can't do that; I can't let it happen, not after mom"

"John, you weren't responsible for that."

"Wasn't I? Mom didn't want to go, but I kept on at her and she agreed in the end because I didn't ask for anything much. She shouldn't have been there, **I killed her**!!" he shouted.

"Is that what you really believe?" the Doctor asked gently.

"Yes." he whispered, "I tried to talk to Scott and he got so mad at me, so I decided not to say any more. No-one wants to listen to what I have to say, dad doesn't want to know, he's said so."

"He just hopes you weren't conscious."

"Well hoping doesn't make it true" he turned over, facing the wall. As far as he was concerned the conversation was over. The doctor had other ideas.

"You were? And how about your mom?"

"She used what strength she had to try and keep me calm. If she hadn't talked so much, she might've made it. If they could've got through to us earlier…if I hadn't insisted we go, she'd still be here and they wouldn't hate me."

"That's a lot of 'ifs' John, and why do you think they hate you?"

"Scott told Ed about me killing mom. Ed told me he did, said Scott and the rest of my family hated me because of it. Scott never tried to stop him, so I suppose he went along with it, not that I blame him, I hate myself."

"Scott didn't know, John. If he really hated you, would he have tried so hard to revive you?" John turned back to face Dr Jenkins, his face puzzled, "Scott found Ed in here attacking you, he dragged him off you and then found you weren't breathing, gave you mouth to mouth and saved your life."

"Should've let me go. Better for everyone."

"You can't mean that."

"Why not?" John's unwavering blue gaze challenged Sam to give him an answer, pleading for one that would make sense to him.

"Your family love you, John. They need you as much as you need them - let them back in, let them help you through this."

"Why would they want to? I'm too much trouble. "

"Your thoughts or Ed's? Just think about what I've said, John. Your brother fought hard to keep you with them, is that the act of someone who thinks you're too much trouble? Someone who doesn't care whether or not you're around? If he'd thought that, all he had to do was sit back and do nothing, all their problems would be solved. But they didn't do that. You're a vital part of this family, John, they're incomplete without you."

"I want; I'd like to believe that."

"Then do it. Look. Talk to your father, or I'll talk to him for you. He has almost as much trouble as you in saying how he feels, but perhaps I can act as a sort of catalyst. If you don't want me then get someone else in, but it needs to be done."

"If we got someone else, I'd have to go through all that again." John responded, "and I don't think I've got the energy. Besides, they may want to report my non-accidental injuries - and they may believe Ed's version."

"You'll do it?"

"If I say yes, can I have some peace so I can get some sleep?"

"Of course, sleep is the best thing for you at the moment."

"In that case, yes. Oh, one more thing Doc."

"Yes John?"

"When am I going to stop being so tired all the time? All I want to do is sleep; I'm not used to it."

"You're still fighting infection and you've been under even more stress. Your body has very limited resources. You're going to have to start eating, young man!"

"One thing at a time hey, doc? My body has limited resources, you know."

"I'll get someone to sit with you, anyone in particular you want to see?"

"Not Gords or Allan - too bouncy. I suppose I'd better see dad. I need to talk to him, before I have time to think and chicken out - might as well get it over with." Sam looked at John trying to figure out what he meant, but decided the boy had a terrific future as a poker player.

He lay there, letting things go over and around in his mind. He had no doubt that his dad would take it badly, yell a bit, or even a lot, but he'd kept things in for too long now. His close call made him realise how fragile life was; on the one hand he wanted to crawl away into a hole and never come out again, on the other he wanted the nightmares of the last few months put behind him so he could start again. He heard the door open.

"John? Sam said you wanted to talk to me."

"Hi dad, yes, I think it's time we did, though I don't think you're going to like it, and I'm really tired, so I'd like it if you just let me get this said and we can talk about it later." his dad nodded, "Scott, Virgil, Gordon and Allan can't understand why I wont talk about mom., you grandma and grandpa probably do too. I've heard you say any number of times that you hoped mom and I weren't conscious while we were trapped, but you see that's why I couldn't talk about her. I didn't want to hurt anyone else; I was hurting enough for everyone. Point is, we were and I was really, really scared and she was talking to me almost all the time - she used pretty well all her strength trying to make sure I got out. Just before she died, she gave me a message for you. She said to tell you she loved you, always had and always will. I couldn't tell you before, you kept saying, you just kept saying…" John couldn't talk anymore as his breath came in sobbing gulps.

All Jeff could do was hold his son, "I'm sorry, John, I'm sorry - what have I put you through?"

"Was my fault, dad, all my fault."

"No, son, no it wasn't."

The sobs faded as tiredness overcame John's penance. Jeff eased him to the bed and took up his book as he began his night's vigil, determined to be there at his son's side when he woke.

It was a disturbed night, John apparently having nightmares. Some involved his mother, Jeff's heart stopped as his son called out, pleading her to stay with him. At other times, he seemed to be reliving his ordeals at Ed's hands.

Jeff wondered if tonight was normal for John, if this was what had been happening during the months since he'd come home from the hospital. One thing was clear; he was desperately unhappy and far from being the well adjusted boy who didn't need his time or attention. Then he said he wanted his dad, his dad wasn't there, why wasn't he? Did his dad hate him? He would if he knew that a message hadn't been passed on but John couldn't tell them.

Jeff's heart had broken into a thousand pieces when his beloved wife had died, they were fragmented further when he realised how badly he'd failed his son. He knew she would have been disappointed that he hadn't noticed one of their sons had been in need and overlooked.

At this moment, Jeff came to a decision, he turned to the desk where John's computer sat, turned it on and waited for it to boot up. Carefully he composed his email, and then pressed the 'send' icon. He turned to see two brilliant blue eyes staring at him.

"I'm sorry, dad."

"Nothing for you to be sorry about, son. You've been more sinned against than sinner. And, as you're awake, I'll let you be the first to know what I've decided. I've missed out too much on you boys growing up. I'm going to work from home more - I've a good team assembled and they should be able to handle the daily routine. If I'm needed I can be there in a couple of hours."

"Why dad?"

Told you, John. I've missed too much. The message you gave me from your mom made me think - she'd have been so mad at me for neglecting you all; the company can more or less run itself now. This is the time your mom and I were working towards; it's taken this to remind me of it. I suppose I was trying to avoid the pain of losing her by burying myself in work which isn't fair on you boys. I'm sorry, John. I promise I'll try to make it up to all of you."

Jeff could see the tears in John's eyes, he raised his arms to his dad, and Jeff responded. "Thank you." he said, "Love you, dad."

"Love you too, John. Now, get back to sleep"

The remainder of the night was passed in silence. Jeff read his book and watched his second son sleep peacefully.


	5. Chapter 5

5

He turned and saw his father in the half light, sprawled asleep in the chair. He supposed it must be around dawn, which meant his dad had been there all night. "_He's going to be sorry when he wakes_." John thought. He'd fallen asleep at his desk once or twice and knew the knots that developed from sleeping in awkward positions. The wonder of it struck him forcibly, his dad had stayed with him all night, he'd stayed to make sure he was all right; he'd **stayed!** John wriggled under his bedclothes, enjoying the warmth both of his bed and the fledgling relationship with the man who'd spent the night by his side; even after his confession. And Scott had 'fought to keep you with us' - his big brother had gone against Ed; sided with **him**. He rolled the ideas round in his mind as he'd toy with a candy in his mouth; and they were just as sweet.

The book slipped from his dad's grasp and clattered to the floor, waking him up with a start, twisted muscles complained and Jeff groaned.

"Not the wisest thing you've ever done, dad."

"I should've chosen a more interesting book." Jeff quipped. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, thanks. My head is fine - but then haven't tried moving yet!"

"Would you like to try sitting up?"

"Not sure, enjoying having everything still, but I guess it would be good to know if I can start doing things for myself. You any idea how humiliating it is to have you or grandpa take me to the bathroom?"

"We changed your diapers, not much difference."

"Dad, that was **years** ago, I've grown a lot since!"

Jeff got out of the chair with some difficulty and helped John attempt to sit up, supporting him with pillows.

"How's that?"

""OK"

"It's because of your vertigo you didn't go to hospital yesterday - you should've by rights, but Sam said almost an hour's journey over the worst roads in the county strapped to a gurney would send your stress levels off the scale." He didn't add that Sam's considered opinion was that such stresses in his weakened condition could put his heart under intolerable strain and the doctor was genuinely concerned John simply wouldn't make the trip.

"Dad, I'm sorry about, well, not passing mom's message on to you. I was waiting for the right time, and it never seemed to come and then it was all so long after and…well, it just got too difficult. I thought it might hurt you more than be welcome."

"It hurts, John, I wont deny that, but I'm glad you found the courage to tell me. Sam told me some of the things you'd been talking about yesterday. He said you'd agreed he could."

"Such as…"

"You believed you were responsible for your mom's death; you're wrong to think she only went that day because you'd been badgering her to go. She'd planned to take you the day previously, she knew how much you wanted to go - even before you'd asked her, but Allan had a toothache and she had to take him to the dentist."

"I didn't know that"

"None of it was in any way your fault, John. "He hesitated for a second. "Something else I'd like you to find the courage to do and that's fill me in on what's been happening at school with you and Ed."

"What's the point, dad? You can't do anything about it, it's my word against Ed's."

"Scott saw…."

"Dad, please, just leave it. You've no idea…besides, I have four brothers who are either at the school or will be. I won't make things difficult for them."

"But Ed won't be there for much longer."

"Please, dad, leave it. And tell Scott to leave it as well. You can't do anything, except make things worse. At least now you know and I don't have to hide it any more, I can maybe cope with it all better now."

"I'll speak to Dave; he needs to know what Ed is up to. He can put a stop to it all. Just because Ed is his son…" Jeff hesitated, a horrific notion coming into his head. "Are you telling me that Dave knows what has been going on and has done nothing to stop it?"

"Dad, I can't, I promised…someone. Look, if I give you my word that one day I'll tell you everything; will you accept it just isn't going to be today?"

_John's mind went back to that afternoon; the day all the parents had gone to the school only his dad was away on business - again, and his mom had gone to see the principal. He'd been sent on an errand and was on his way back when he heard raised voices from the Principal's office. He thought it was strange because he knew it was time for his mom's appointment and he knew he'd been doing OK in his lessons and so had Scott. Then he recognised his mom's voice and he knocked quietly on the door and opened it when he heard her saying for him to come in. He saw Mr McCarthy turn, with a really angry look on his face, which turned to acute pain as his mom's knee connected with a somewhat sensitive part of the Principal's anatomy, and he collapsed on a heap on the floor. _

_His mother swept out of the office, grabbing John's arm and whispered to him that he was never, under any circumstances to tell his father what he'd witnessed. (He assumed she meant kneeing his Principal in the groin and was all too aware that his dad would put two and two together and would in all probability inflict further pain on Mr McCarthy - which would not be in the best interests of anyone; least of all one John Tracy). He was also never **ever** to leave her alone with him, and if he couldn't be there, he was to make very sure one of his brothers was, without informing them of the reason why. Oh yes, he was going to be able to accomplish that feat and he didn't think! _

_It suddenly made sense - why Ed was coming out with threats that were completely beyond his limited intellect. Either Principal McCarthy had been in love with his mother and held John responsible for her death; or he was being made to pay for his mom's rejection of said Principal. She was dead and couldn't be made to pay for anything, but although he hadn't seen what had gone on, he'd most certainly seen the results. _

"Answer me, John."

"Sorry, dad, miles away."

Jeff sighed. His son was obviously not going to enlighten him, "Too early for breakfast?" he asked John

"Not really hungry dad. Glass of milk would be good though." John accepted he'd have to make more effort to eat, he was hoping people would let him take things slowly. "Before you go, though, I need the bathroom."

Jeff noticed a slight reddening of John's cheeks he hadn't noticed before, but now he was aware of how embarrassed John was. He'd forgotten, if indeed he had ever known, that his second son valued his privacy, something he'd been stripped of while suffering from vertigo and remaining upright for any reason was an absolute impossibility.

"If you feel OK, then maybe I could wait for you outside the door. Until Sam gives the OK, I daren't leave you on your own."

"That would be great dad. Thanks." The overtones of gratitude in John's voice were clear.

Jeff pulled the blankets back and slowly lifted his son, who he was sure was even lighter than Allan. "OK? I want the truth, John."

"I'm fine dad, honestly."

Jeff helped his son to stand, then supporting John helped him to walk across the bathroom. "Thanks, dad."

"Shout if you need me."

"Received and understood." John gave a faint grin.

He watched his dad leave and for the first time in four days, he was able to stand upright - without his world spinning out of control, and a precious few minutes being able to see to his personal comfort without someone helping him. With his dad's support he also managed to walk back to his room, another small but significant achievement, and John settled back into his bed feeling as though he were beginning to make progress.

"And just what did you two think you were doing?" demanded his grandma.

"We were caught!" commented Jeff to his son.

"You scared of her?" asked John

"Aren't you?"

"Sure, but I'm just a kid, I'm supposed to be!" John smiled.

"Yeh? Well I was a kid before you, so I've had more time to…"

"That's enough, both of you. Jeff, what did you think you were doing letting that boy walk to his room, Sam hasn't said he could!"

"Sorry, grandma, it was my fault" interrupted John

"Might have been your idea, but your father should have known better! He's **supposed** to be the responsible adult!"

"Sorry, dad."

"Don't worry, son. You still want that milk?"

"Please; but take the chill off."

Of all his children, and of all the children he had ever known, John was the only one to ask for warm milk, refusing to drink it chilled.

"And when you've done that, Jeff Tracy, you take your self to bed and get some sleep."

"But Sam…"

"I'll call you when Sam gets here, don't worry; in the mean time, I will stay with John."

Jeff did as his mother had instructed; he was too tired to argue, and his son was all right. There was nothing more to do until Sam arrived.

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John was sitting up when the Doctor arrived, leaning against the pillows for support.

"You're looking much better, John. How are you feeling?"

"My head doesn't spin all the time, which is a good thing."

"Hmm." Sam said as he began his examination. John endured the poking and prodding, testing his blood pressure and all of the other procedures the doctor put him through, grateful it was Doctor Jenkins and not some unknown city medic; that would have been so much worse.

"We talked a bit - dad and me." John said.

"Do you feel any better? "

"No. How am I supposed to feel better by making other people feel bad? In some ways it was good to start talking, but he wants to know more than I can tell him. I promised…I promised…mom."

"Just keep trying, John. I'll help if I can, you know that."

"Yes. I kinda like the feeling. You know the 'almost belonging to the family' feeling. Sure beats the 'who the hell is he and what's he doing here' one."

"You **are** part of the family, John. You were the one who cut yourself off from them - maybe not intentionally and perhaps they could have been more understanding when you came home, but the situation was caused by two parties, not just the one."

"OK, Doc, I'll try."

"And if your dad keeps trying too, you'll definitely get somewhere."

"Dad said he was going to work from home."

"He said the same thing to me too. Nearly losing you a second time made him realise he didn't know much about any of his sons and he wanted to remedy that - but I didn't tell you, OK?"

"But were you ever here?"

"Right." The doctor straightened up, scribbled frantically in his book and turned to John, "we'd better get your dad and grandma in here…I hate repeating myself."

When his dad and grandmother had come into his room and found some form of seating, Dr Jenkins began, "John is making good progress, the problem now is that you will probably want to get back to 'normal' as quickly as possible." he looked directly at John, "Most things will be well within your current abilities, but you have got to understand that an attack of vertigo can still strike at any time; you must not, under any circumstances, put yourself in a dangerous situation. You can walk around on one level, but you are not to attempt stairs unaided. You must also eat, John - do you understand me?"

"Yes" he muttered, quietly.

"I'm not expecting you to tackle seven course banquet, milk and cereal will do for starters, then build up to puree before launching into grown up food. I know you can do it, and you will if you're serious about NASA. Do exactly as I tell you and you'll soon be back to normal."

"Coffee and biscuits before you go, Sam?" grandma asked him.

"Can't pass up an offer like that, can I?"

"Boys, you can come in now; but quiet, please. John can't take too much noise." John's brothers had been waiting impatiently to go into his room. Grandma tapped Gordon and Allan on the head as they passed. "And back to bed with you, Jeff."

The five brothers looked at each other and tried hard to disguise the grins passing between them at the thought of their father being sent to bed; grins that died on their lips at a glare from their father.

"So, you gonna tell him Scotty? Or c'n I?" demanded Gordon after the adults had left.

"Tell me what?" asked John.

"'Bout Ed"

"Gordon, you'll be overdramatic." cautioned Scott

"Wont!"

"Will someone, anyone, please tell me what this is all about!" interrupted John.

"OK, well, this was how grandpa told it. After Ed left your room, he went downstairs and said he needed to go home. Grandpa said he'd do it - remember, **he** didn't know what Ed had been doing to you. Anyways, Bob decided he was going to ride along with grandpa - and you know that dog is smelly at the best of times, but he must've eaten something dead the day before because as they were driving along Bob was making smells that even a skunk couldn't stomach. Ed was going greener and greener and eventually grandpa had to stop. Ed flung the door open and before he could get out, threw up all over Mrs Prentiss." Scott paused for dramatic effect and noticed John's eyes dancing with delight, it was also at this point that Gordon and Allan decided to provide visual aids. "Now, Mrs Prentiss was walking her two Pomeranians, and they took exception to being sprayed with vomit, promptly taking off across Mr Summers' lawn. Bob obviously decided that it was a game and leapt out of the pick up. Launching himself off Ed's back., dropping another particularly lethal cocktail of gasses, which made Ed heave even more." At this point, John couldn't contain himself any longer and for the first time in almost a year, he laughed. Scott continued with the story, "Bob chased the two Pomeranians and you know how Mrs Prentiss has that leash joined in the middle so she can walk both dogs at once, well, that caught on the lawn sprinkler, dragging it spraying towards Mr Summers who was up a ladder painting." By now, John was gasping for breath, pleading with them to give him a break. "So Summers was soaked, his painting was ruined and he's threatening to sue everyone involved."

Outside John's room, four adults were listening to the sound of John's laughter, none was prepared to re-enter the room for fear of destroying the moment. Jeff's father looked at him, gave a brief nod and mouthed "He's gonna be all right now."

There was no question of Jeff sleeping now, and they all went downstairs to drink coffee and share breakfast.


	6. Chapter 6

_I reworked this chapter following feedback, and I thank Trinilee Greenleaf and Boleyn for their helpful comments and encouragement not to give up…_

_I still don't own Thunderbirds, and as promised, I will shortly be putting them back in their tissue lined boxes for the next person to play with. _

6

John finally caught his breath; the performance given by Allan and Gordon, together with the commentary by Scott and Virgil had made him laugh so hard his ribs ached. When the attack of vertigo hit, his face drained of colour and he fell towards Scott; the laughter stopped abruptly and Gordon and Allan fled downstairs to Jeff. On seeing the look of panic on his two youngest brothers' faces, he felt guilty; but there was nothing he could do about it. _It just wasn't fair; he thought to himself, what was it - aversion therapy? _

"Sorry." John muttered as he clung to Scott while his world, once again, spun out of control.

Virgil's face was all concern, "I'll go and see if the Doc's still here. "he said.

"No, it's beginning to ease off now." John lied unconvincingly. He could hear the heavy footsteps of his dad and the doctor and wished his head would stop spinning; he thought it was beginning to get better, but maybe that was simply wishful thinking on his part.

"OK, Scott, I'll take him" and John could feel his dad's strong hands ease him away from Scott's.

"I'm OK, dad, really."

"We both know you aren't." he reached for the bowl as he could feel John's body shake as he began to heave. "Scott, you go now, Sam and I will take care of him." Jeff cradled John, gently stroking his hair and telling him it was all going to be fine and he could feel his son gradually relaxing as the attack waned.

"Tell them I'm sorry, dad. Sorry I messed everything up again. Having fun, I scared them. I'm sorry."

"They'll know you didn't do it on purpose, son. But I'll tell them."

"Thought it was over." John muttered into his dad's chest.

"Sam did warn you these attacks could recur. Just relax, son, that's it. I'm going to put you back on your bed now." Jeff explained as he eased John onto his pillows.

"I know you think it's easy for me to say" Sam began, "but try not to be too upset by this. It takes time, that's all. One day you'll realise you haven't had an attack in weeks."

"I c-can't do this. Can't do it any more." John said quietly.

Jeff and Sam exchanged a worried look, "What do you mean son?" Jeff asked.

"Tired, dad. Tired of fighting, tired of trying and getting nowhere. Don't want to do it any more. Don't want to be here. I want mom." He turned over in bed, his back to his dad and the doctor.

"John, talk to me; you remember what we were discussing earlier?" Sam began, "That you need to tell people what you're really feeling and not what you think they want to hear. Don't you think it's time to let your dad know how you feel? "

John shrugged, "Don't think he could take it." he said simply

"You don't think your dad could take what you want to say? Why is that?"

"It would hurt him too much. I don't want to do that."

"Don't you think he should be the one to decide that?" Sam asked.

"That's fine in theory, but he doesn't know what it's about and when he's heard it; it's too late to take it back."

"It's worse knowing that there's something so bad you feel you can't tell me, John." his father interrupted gently. "Have I let you down so badly?"

John turned back and looked at his dad, "You said I wasn't to blame for mom's death but, "he hesitated, what he was about to say could hurt his dad deeply "where were you when I was in the hospital? I remember grandma and grandpa, and my brothers - even if Gordon and Allan were complaining they were bored and wanted to go home."

"I was working, John, you know that, I came as often as I could."

"No, I mean before."

"Before what?" asked Jeff

"Before I woke up. I didn't hear everything all the time, just now and again. Mostly it was silence, the doctors and nurses coming and going - some of them used to talk to me and that was good, I enjoyed that. Did you come? Were you there and I didn't know?"

Jeff dropped his head as he thought back to that time. The doctors had said that John was unlikely to recover, and he was unable to watch his son lying in that bed, unresponsive. So he'd stayed away, burying himself in his work; using it as an excuse to distance himself from his sons who, in their own ways reminded him so much of his wife. John's words had hurt, more than he ever thought he could be after losing Lucy; and **that** wound was still new and sore; but he had betrayed his young family, denying them the comfort of their surviving parent because **he** couldn't bear the thought of facing them. He looked at John, there was no hatred nor bitterness in those sapphire blue eyes, only loving questioning and Jeff realised the only way forward was to be completely honest. Jeff began his apology, explaining how he'd felt and admitting he was wrong; if he could turn the clock back; he would and do everything differently.

John nodded to indicate he understood.

"I was happy where I was. " John said, "didn't want to leave there, but every so often I could hear grandma or grandpa or one of my brothers, but it wasn't till I heard Virgil telling me about falling off the hen house roof when he was painting it and getting covered in paint (and worse). It sort of made me laugh inside and decide to try to get back to you, but it took time 'cause I'd been there for so long. If you haven't heard it yet, you want to ask Virg to tell you - and if Gords and Allan give you the visual presentation that's a bonus - in fact I think I might ask for a repeat performance now I'm conscious."

"I guess it was night the first time I woke up, everything was dark and when I first opened my eyes everything was fuzzy. I could hear the monitor so I knew I wasn't dead…but I was on my own, dad, and as things came back to me, I got so scared. I wanted mom, then I remembered what had happened. I began to cry because I was on my own and I missed mom, and I couldn't make anyone hear me and I thought maybe everyone else had died too, and maybe I was the last person left…then this nurse came in and told me to stop behaving like a two year old. She said everyone was too busy to sit with me all the time and that you'd be in at the weekend. Like I said I was scared and no-one was there and no-one had been there. You were all getting on with your lives and I was left alone, miles from home! I was forgotten."

"But you hadn't been forgotten." Jeff interrupted.

Any further discussion was cut short by Scott entering the room

"Grandma sent this up for John." he explained. He was carrying a try with a bowl of Fruit Loops (dry) and glass of warm milk with honey. Scott hated the smell, but John loved honey stirred into his milk. "And Virgil sent this." he gave John a small box.

Long, nimble fingers worked quickly while a puzzled look occupied his face, "A doorbell?" he queried, "Correction, our new, wireless doorbell - what did grandma say when he took this off?"

"Oh he just said it was for you." replied Scott.

"But why?"

"Doc said you'd be able to get up soon but you'd need someone around in case you have another attack. Virg knows how much you hate having people hovering too much, and he thought that if you carried this in your pocket and got into any trouble, you could let us know."

John's face broke into a wide grin as he realised how much thought had gone into the simple act. It would give him a measure of independence back.

"No stairs, though, young man. You understand me?" Sam warned

"Sure doc." and, feeling considerably better and far more optimistic than previously, set about selecting his loops.

His dad and the doc left his room talking quietly, but Scott was hanging around. He obviously wanted to talk, but was unsure how to begin, so John took pity on his brother, "Come on, Scott, what is it? Doc told me what you did; that you saved my life. Saying 'Thanks' just isn't enough."

"It, erm, well, it isn't that..."

"What is it, then? Having saved my life, you think I could possibly get mad at you over anything - at least not for a couple of days anyway" John gave one of his half smiles, "that is why you're having trouble telling me whatever it is, isn't it?" Scott's head dropped, and John knew he was on the right track, "It's bugging you, so it's got to be important, and if it's going to affect our future relationship then I'd much rather get it sorted now. I know the damage that can be caused by keeping things to yourself - don't do it Scott…please, talk to me!"

"I, erm, I believed Ed. I believed him when he said you were getting involved with the wrong crowd…I even told dad that's what I thought!"

"Be fair, I didn't do anything to stop you believing it, did I? And Ed is your friend."

"Was, John, was."

"It was because Ed is; sorry was your friend that I couldn't say anything. Ed told me you wouldn't believe me that you hated me because of what happened with mom." Scott reddened as he recalled saying just that to Ed, but that had been in the days following the accident, when Scott was angry and wanting to hit out; and John happened to be a convenient scapegoat.

"I understand, Scott, really I do. I've hated myself for long enough but talking to dad …well, he tried to tell me that it wasn't my fault. I'm not sure he's convinced me yet though." John's shy smile gave Scott the confidence to carry on.

"I'm sorry, John. You're family, I should've…"

"Should've, could've, would've." said John, "What's past is nowhere near as important as what we're going to do from now on. I'm sorry too Scott, I know Ed is, was, your friend and good friends are hard to come by."

"You're wrong there, John. I can always get another friend, but brothers - especially ones like you - are irreplaceable. Right, well now you've got me to embarrass myself completely, I'll let you have some rest, but do you want anything first?"

John blushed at Scott's comments and settled back into his pillows, "No, I'm good. Thanks for being honest with me. I could do with some time on my own though, to think things through, a lot's happened this morning. Funny thing is, while it was all going on with, well, at school, all I could think of was getting home and hiding up here. Now, it's fine for a short time but it's driving me crazy being stuck here all the time."

"Sure, biggest little brother. Just ring if you want anything."

"Scott, tell Virgil 'Thanks'. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

Scott got off the bed placing the tray on the bedside table and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. John closed his eyes to think, and without realising it drifted to sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He woke with a start at the sound of someone coming into his room.

"Sorry, John, didn't realise you were asleep." said Virgil

"That's Ok, Virg; I've been spending far too much time asleep recently. The doorbell idea was brilliant, though I can't think how you persuaded her to let you do it." John responded.

"Wasn't anything much." Virgil modestly replied, "When I told her what I wanted it for she just said it was fine."

"Not much - huh? Anything that gives me the chance of getting to the bathroom on my own is priceless. I've had dad or grandpa taking me and it's just downright embarrassing!"

Virgil's face was one of total sympathy, he knew just how private a person John was "Allan and Gordon are worried that they were responsible for what happened before." he said.

"No way, Virgil. They can happen any time for another couple of weeks. On the plus side though, guess that means I can't go back to school next week. Has dad said anything about when he's going back to the office?" John was curious whether their dad had said anything to the others; if he had then it was more likely that he meant it.

"He told us he was going to be working from home from now on; something about it being what he and mom had been planning. Sounds pretty good to me - if it comes off. I'd really like it if he were here more, we could be more like a normal family - you know what I mean?"

John nodded, then tilted his head, looked at his brother sideways and grinned, "So what exactly are you stuck on?" he asked. He'd sensed that Virgil was having problems with at least one of his subjects, and he was more than happy to help out.

"How did you know that?"

"Just call me psychic." John replied. "Got the books with you?"

"No, they're in my room."

"Can't see through walls yet - so why don't you go and get them, we can get it done and you can enjoy what's left of the break."

"Dad's taking us fishing tomorrow!" Virgil then realised John wouldn't be able to go with them and immediately regretted saying anything.

"It's OK Virg, maybe they'll let me go downstairs save grandma having to run up and down when I need something." He tried to reassure his brother, "Gordon and Allan **are** going as well, aren't they?"

"Well, there has to be a downside to it, doesn't there?"

"For you, yes; tough luck! You, Scott and dad have drawn the short straw. So that's a double reason I should give you a hand."

John was good at explaining most things, especially math; and Virgil finally understood the questions, so producing the right answers was easy. When they'd worked though them all, Virgil turned to John and said, "We all feel really guilty John."

"Why?"

"Because of what was happening and we didn't realise. We should have noticed something."

"I've been through this with Scott. You have no reason to feel guilty. I hid it, I was trying to deal with things myself and failing badly; but by the time I realised I couldn't I was in too deep. Promise me one thing, Virg."

"Anything John."

"When you have a problem - and at some point in your life, you **will**, talk to someone about it; hopefully one of us. Family is the best because they will love you no matter what. Don't make the mistakes I did, learn from me, please. I would hate to think of anyone else going through it - especially my brothers."

"Sure, John. I promise, and I'll tell the others."

"Thanks, Virg."


	7. Chapter 7

_Still don__'__t own anything, still wish I did._

7

The next day was overcast but rain wasn't forecast and John considered conditions right for a good day's fishing. As he'd hoped, he was allowed downstairs having been carried down by his dad. It was so good to get downstairs again, to him it seemed as though he'd been exiled in his room for weeks instead of a couple of days. Everyone was passing him at a rapid rate of knots, grandma was busy making sandwiches and drinks, dad and his brothers were packing, checking and generally falling over each other. He was glad to be able to sit back and let the world run riot around him; hyper Gordon and Allan were more than he could cope with and he genuinely felt sorry for his dad, Scott and Virgil, not to mention the fish.

Bet you really want to come with us, don't you John?" Gordon demanded.

John simply smiled and patted Gords on the back as he ran out onto the porch. It didn't take long for loud laughter to be heard coming in through the door a few seconds before a red-faced brother tore into the kitchen and slapped the paper onto the table; 'I am John Tracy's #1 Fan' it said.

"I'll get you back for that," Gordon hissed.

"I don't doubt it, Gords." He responded. Childish and pathetic the act may have been, and he would pay for it, he knew that; but for now, he would enjoy his few moments of triumph. It was the first time he'd been tempted to play a trick on anyone since his return home and Gordon was such an easy target, he would never suspect John capable of such an act.

"I don't believe you did that!" Scott said, "You do know what you've started, don't you!"

"Sure do, brother." he responded, "But how many times have **you** been able to get one over on Gordon?"

"Wasn't fair, it was a sneaky attack!" Gordon moaned.

"Only kind that's any good against you." John retorted, "Scott, Virgil, I expect you to watch my back, I'm still sick, remember!"

"Why drag us into it?" asked Virgil, "You know what to expect from him." he nodded in Gordon's direction.

"Come on," John pleaded, "I'll do the same for you - I promise!"

"Boys, everything is ready." Jeff called, ushering four of his five sons out through the door. He sat on the sofa next to John, "You sure you're OK with us going, leaving you behind?"

"Dad, just go, will you. I've ruined the week for them by being ill, at least let them have this. I'm fine, really, and I promise I'll try not to run grandma ragged looking after me."

"You know I agree with Scott," Jeff said as he got up, ruffling John's hair, "I can't believe you did that - to Gordon of all people!"

John grinned broadly, his eyes glinting with amusement and hinting at further mischief, "Me neither, I must be getting reckless in my old age. Now will you go!"

The house suddenly fell silent, John lay back closed his eyes and savoured the peace.

"Here." Grandma said, "Some milk and cookies - eat."

"I've not long had breakfast." he complained.

"Sam will be calling by later, and if you think I'm going to get into trouble with him…"

"You mean, there's someone **you****'****re** scared of." John's admiration for the doctor increased dramatically. He wasn't 'scared' of his grandma the same way he was of Ed, he loved and respected her and couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her. Ed was something else, something that made him sick in the pit of his stomach, something he knew he could never face again, but he would have to once he'd recovered - **if **he recovered.

"I'm not scared of Sam Jenkins!" She announced, "Just don't want to tell him I haven't been trying to keep to his instructions."

"Yes, OK, I believe you."

"You watch your cheek!", she playfully swiped her hand out, but the memory of Ed's attack was still fresh in his mind. Instinctively, he raised his hand and knocked hers away with a resounding smack; his eyes widening in horror as he realised what he had done.

"I'm sorry, grandma, I'm so sorry, please…I'm so, so sorry."

Her fierce glare softened quickly as she, too, realised why it had happened. It wasn't John's fault she knew that; but would he allow her to hold him? He hadn't permitted anyone to get too close to him since he'd returned home from hospital, but as she neared him, he threw his arms around her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't, John. It's all right, I'm not mad at you."

Dad will be!"

"It'll be all right, John. He'll understand."

"Well, I don't!" he pushed her away and stood up, far too quickly. The dizziness hit and he fell backwards onto the sofa. He was feeling miserable, again a brief spell of happiness only to have it all snatched away. He didn't know how much more of this he could take! She tried to touch his shoulder to comfort him, but he pulled away, pounding the arm of the sofa in frustration; but this time she persisted, gently resting her hand on his shoulder until he responded.

"Let us help you, John." she crooned gently.

"I don't understand why it keeps happening. I keep thinking things are getting better, then they go back again, go back to the bad times."

"We can help John, but you have to let us in."

"Is…err…will it be OK if I sit on the porch." He asked hesitantly. "I'd like to get some air."

"Do you have the bell with you?"

John nodded.

"Don't go any further, I need to know where you are in case you get into trouble."

"I promise."

He gingerly walked out onto the porch, half expecting the vertigo to strike again at any minute, eased himself into the lounger and lay back, and closing his eyes. After a short time, Bob came slinking next to him and pushed his nose into John's hand; absent mindedly, John began to tickle behind the dog's ear,

"I owe you big time." he said, and he could hear the thumping of Bob's tail on the decking, then felt the wetness of his tongue. He certainly owed Bob. He played with the dog's ears and wallowed in his misery.

Some time later Sam Jenkins drove up to the house and noticed John sitting on the porch, Bob's head on the boy's legs.

"John. Good to see you outside at last! Feeling better today?" Sam asked.

"Was." John replied miserably

"And what happened to change your mind?" the doctor enquired gently.

John couldn't look at the doctor, the nearest he could manage was to look over his shoulder. "I hit grandma. I'm turning into a monster."

"Oh, and what exactly happened?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. John was the quietest and always the most placid of the five brothers.

John related the events between him and his grandmother from his point of view - which made him out to be the villain of the piece and completely responsible for everything that happened.

"Fine, now you said you know your grandma would never hurt you, but what were you thinking at the time?" Sam tried to be as gentle as he possibly could.

"All I could see was Ed's face, and feel his hands round my neck…and…" John began to choke.

"Shhhh, it's all right John, you're quite safe now."

"I'm a **monster!**" John exclaimed.

"You aren't John. You're hardly more than a child and you're trying to cope with events that an adult would have serious difficulties with. You really need to allow us to take some of the strain for you, let us help you - please!" The sincerity in Sam's voice was unmistakeable. "How on earth did the psychiatrists at the hospital miss the fact you were so much in need of counselling?"

"They were easy to fool." John replied, "Just had to figure out what they wanted to hear. I wanted to get home and knew they wouldn't let me unless I could tick all the right boxes" For the first time since Sam had arrived, John looked at him directly.

"What about me, John. Am I easy to fool?"

John shook his head. "You want the truth and know when I'm not giving it to you. But sometimes the truth is the hardest thing of all."

"You're not wrong there."

"But I saw…" his body trembled, "I saw her die" he said quietly, almost a whisper.

"She wasn't alone." Sam said gently, "Most people fear dying alone, but your mom had someone who loved her very much. I know it's been hard on you, but it could have been so much worse for her."

"Do you really think I helped her?" John pleaded.

"I know you did John. I've sat with a lot of people in their last hours; those who had close ones with them were far more peaceful than those on their own."

"Does it ever get any easier? Will this pain go away?"

"Not entirely. You learn to live with it, find ways of coming to terms with it but you will never 'get over it'. You can't, not something like this. It wont always be so intense, it will fade into the background over time; but you'll find that every so often something will remind you, or you'll think to yourself 'I can't wait to tell mom this or that'. It's normal and you'll work through it. Point is, you don't have to do it alone."

"I haven't even been allowed to see her grave." he said suddenly.

"They were trying to protect you. " Sam explained but he had begun to appreciate the depths that this young boy had plumbed. They couldn't protect him from the present because they hadn't been there to protect him from the past.

"Does dad go? Does anyone? I can't bear to think of her being alone; no-one talking to her. She'll feel as though we've all forgotten her."

"She'll know that could never happen, John. She knows how much you all love her and miss her." Sam tried to calm the teen. "I think that perhaps that's enough for today. Come on. Let's see what your grandma has been up to while you've been out here sulking."

"I have not been sulking…skulking maybe!"

Sam reached out his hand, and John grasped it firmly. They walked back into the house with the doctor's arm lightly draped over John's shoulder. "We'll get you through this; your family and me. Do I have your permission to talk to your dad about our discussions this afternoon?" John looked at him quizzically, "You're my patient, and it's a thing called patient confidentiality."

"But dad…"

"How can I expect you to trust me if I can't keep what you tell me in confidence to myself? You see, to help you through this, I need your confidence more than anything else."

Fine, doc, whatever you think is best; just go gentle with dad - OK?"

"Sam, good to see you. John I've made a cake, left the bowl for you." his grandma said s they walked through the door. "Just make sure you wash your hands first!"

John had some strange tastes, clearing the bowl after his grandma had been mixing cakes being one of them he sat down and his eyes lit up as she passed the mixing bowl over.

"You staying for coffee?" she enquired of Sam. Watching John as he scraped his finger around the bowl and ate the mixture off it.

"Cookies?" the doctor asked.

"First batch is just about ready."

"How can I resist?" Sam paused, "John has been telling me about what happened earlier."

"Oh that." She dismissed, "Nothing to worry about, told John so."

"All I could see was Ed." John tried to explain.

She went over to him, held out her hands, and was surprised when he again allowed her to hold and comfort him. "I'm sorry." he said simply.

"I know, I know." she responded, gently stroking his hair, and they both enjoyed the moment.

"Jeff take the boys fishing?" Sam asked.

"Bright and early this morning" grandma informed him, "John played a joke on Gordon before they left." she added with a wink.

"Gordon! That was reckless, not like you at all John!"

"I was feeling good then." John responded.

"And now?" Sam asked.

John smiled, "Getting there, Doc."

"Good. We'll keep talking John, and no trying to bluff me!"

"I know better than that, Doc."

"Cookies and coffee for you Sam, milk for you John."

"If I promise to be good, can I have a change tomorrow?"

"No" Sam and grandma said in unison.

"Smells good, I thought you would be having fish for tea. Don't you expect them to catch anything?" Sam commented.

"Oh, it isn't that, Doc," John muttered through a mouthful of cookie, "Allan makes them throw the fish back. Says he can't stand the way they look at him."

"I can understand that." Sam laughed, "In a restaurant, I always have to get them to cut the heads off; I can't bear them looking at me as I eat them. But why go fishing if you aren't going to eat them?"

"Dad says it's the perfect excuse to do nothing for a few hours. I think he's glad to be able to stop bouncing for a while."

"Bouncing?"

"Come on, Doc, he's hardly ever here, always going to some meeting or other, investigating some new technique or looking at a new invention. I'm just wondering how long this 'working from home' is going to last."

"When your father says something, he means it, John Tracy." grandma scolded.

""I'm sure he means it now, grandma, but you know dad better than any of us. How long before he gets bored? Is it fair for any of us to expect him to change so completely?"

"Give him a chance John. He's trying." Sam interjected.

"Don't get me wrong, doc. I want it to work; I really do, but I don't want him to be miserable doing it. He doesn't deserve that. His work has kept him sane since…since it all happened."

"It's what they were working towards" grandma began.

"I know, grandma, but that's when mom was alive; when they were going to have their time together. She isn't here now - don't you think that will make him miss her even more?"

"…and don't you think he realises how much his sons need him; now more than ever. Tracy Industries isn't his life, his family is, he may have lost sight of that for a while in his grief, but he's come to realise it now." She put the glass of milk down on the table with a bang. "Now, drink."

"Thanks. I'm sorry, I just can't bear to think of anyone else feeling this bad; and I know they are, some even worse." He rose, "Is it OK if I go back out onto the porch?"

Grandma nodded.

He went back out, Bob had kept his vigil at the lounger, somehow knowing he would be back. The collie placed his head on John's stomach and enjoyed the petting which gradually ceased as John drifted off to sleep in the warmth of the afternoon sun, soothed by the lullaby of wind hissing through the trees. It sounded just like waves breaking on a sea shore and he pictured himself on a beach on a tropical island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.


End file.
